


Starker Drabbles

by Readmynovels



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Kidnapping, M/M, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-09-01 21:57:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16773703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Readmynovels/pseuds/Readmynovels
Summary: This is a collection of drabbles of starker writing from my tumblr (ficlets and one shots)Tumblr- Richieloveseds





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Kidnap AU (will update this chapter as I continue the series)

**Kidnap AU**

Tumblr series (with gifs) [here](http://richieloveseds.tumblr.com/tagged/kidnap-au)

When Tony sees Peter for the first time, there is no question about it. It’s inevitable, really, his instant obsession with the sweet-eyed Adonis with pretty pink lips and soft ivory skin. He’s fucking _perfect_ and it takes every bit of self-control in him not to follow the kid out of the restaurant right then and take him home with Tony where he belongs. Instead, he skips sleeping that night and proceeds to scrounge up every piece of information about the kid he can get his hands on. Soon, he finds himself following Peter to school. Every little detail he learns about him, from trivial things like his class schedule and the academic awards he’s won, to more personal facts like his drink order at Starbucks or the way he dances at night (unknowingly too close to his bedroom window), all of these little things only spur Tony forward. 

He kidnaps him one week later. As planned, Peter is on a long walk home all by himself. Someone sent him the wrong time and location for his club meeting. oops. Tony pulls next to him and rolls down his window. He’s got chloroform ready in his left hand and a fully charged taser in his side compartment, but neither of those end up mattering because Peter. Gets. In. The. Car. willingly. His only hesitation is out of concern for inconveniencing Tony (bless him). The boy is so trusting and innocent and Tony is so giddy with excitement as Peter slides into the passenger seat. Because now, he’s completely Tony’s. 

_He just doesn’t know it yet._

*

It takes the kid ten minutes to figure out something is wrong.

It’s obvious the second Peter understands what’s happening. His expression morphs from confusion to realization as they turn onto the highway.

Tony doesn’t dare slow the car down enough for him to be able to jump out, but he is a little surprised when Peter doesn’t attempt to touch the door handle. Another look at him and Tony understands. He’s frozen, lovely brown eyes wide with fear. Tony sees the rapid little movements of his chest under the flannel shirt as he breathes dangerously fast–like a rabbit. It’s like he’s stuck somewhere between fight and flight. Tony decides he doesn’t want to wait to find out which one he’ll pick. He takes an exit and pulls over in an abandoned warehouse parking lot.

Getting the handcuffs on him becomes a greater problem than Tony previously expected. The notion of being restrained provokes a strong reaction from Peter as he thrashes around, trying to get out of the car. Tony pins his skinny arms down easily enough, but then the kid screams and no, Tony _cannot_ have that. He slaps a hand over his mouth and leans in close so Peter has no chance of mishearing him.

“I don’t want to drug you,” Tony warns lowly in his ear, “but I will.” As Peter absorbs the words, his muffled sounds stop as do his struggles to fight against Tony’s grip.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” Tony promises before gently taking his pale, pliant wrists in his hand. Peter lets out a whimper at the sound of the handcuffs clicking around his wrists. To comfort him, Tony rubs at the soft skin reassuringly with his thumb.

Peter is deathly quiet during the drive. He remains still, either too smart or too scared to attack Tony.

It’s three hours later when they get to the motel in Mooresburg, Pennsylvania. Tony has a room prepared that he’s been renting for the past two nights, along with the majority of other rooms to decrease the chances of being seen or heard. With a parking spot practically right in front of the door and a couple of purposely broken lightbulbs discouraging potential witnesses of Peter, it’s the ideal situation to get him in and out with no one noticing anything.

“I’m going to help you put this on.” Tony says and holds up a large, black hoodie. Peter looks at it in hesitation and flinches away when Tony attempts to pull it over his head. When Peter moves for the car door, Tony grabs the chain of his handcuffs, forcing him into immobility.

“Don’t scream.” Tony orders. With another threat of drugging him accompanied by a flash of the bottle of chloroform, Tony has Peter sliding the hoodie on, concealing his handcuffs. The kid’s fear of being drugged gets him out of the car without much difficulty. Tony guides him to the door, his arm wrapped tightly around Peter’s back like a snake.

An hour later when Peter is handcuffed to the bed post, he tries to talk Tony into letting him leave. Tony will never let that happen, of course, but he’s relieved at least the kid is finally talking. He must know what he looks like. He must now how adorable he is.

The plan is South Dakota. There’s a house there that’s been in Tony’s family for years. It’s secluded enough, but it’ll take two more days to get there.

Tony doesn’t mind, though, he decides as he glances at Peter, who is watching him with trepid uncertainty.

He knows it will all be worth it.


	2. Mob Boss/Stockholm Syndrome

“Think you need a timeout, sweetheart.”  
That was how it always started. Peter saying or doing something that crossed the line and Tony, after being patient for long enough, not tolerating his behavior for any longer. If the kid was given an inch, he’d take a mile. Really, he just needed to learn.  
“No, no, Daddy.” Peter would shake his head fervently, pretty brown eyes filling with fear as he quickly tried to backpedal. “I—I don’t need a timeout. I’ll be good, I promise.”  
‘Timeouts’ Tony termed them, were the one punishment Peter couldn’t stand. To be fair, he had a pretty big threshold. His baby took most of his punishments like a champ. Being spanked over Tony’s knee, having hot candle wax dripping onto his back, wearing a leash, getting hogtied, not being allowed to cum, all were taken with little resistance.  
But timeouts? Big no. Being put in a cell in the basement all by himself for three or four days? The kid couldn’t handle it. He’d be bawling, screaming for Tony to come back, that he was sorry, that he’d never do whatever it was again, until his voice broke and all he could do was whine uselessly. (Tony would watch the spectacle curiously from a hidden camera when he missed him.)  
But Tony couldn’t wrap his head around why it bothered Peter so much. He was brought two meals every day by Tony’s men, had access to water and a mattress to sleep on. He suspected it was the lack of human interaction. Or maybe confinement. The idea that Peter couldn’t leave.  
Sure, he couldn’t really go anywhere even out of the cell, not farther than the few miles Tony had allowed him to drift at least, but he supposed there was a difference between a tiny cell in a dark, muggy basement and the gigantic mansion Peter could prowl as he pleased.  
Finally, after the days had passed, when Tony would finally come downstairs, jingling the keys purposely, he’d find his boy a sobbing mess, tears matted in those long eyelashes, fingers gripping around the bars like he was strong enough to break them open and get out. His eyes would light up when he saw it was Tony every single time, melting the older man’s heart.  
“Are you ready to be a good boy?” Tony would ask, doing his best to look serious, suppress the sadistic smile as  
Peter’s response was a string of frantic pleads, something along the lines of, “YesDaddyI’msosorryI’llbesogoodIpromisepleaseletmeout.”  
And then Tony’s favorite part came, where he opened the cell door and Peter scrambled out to pounce on the man in a desperate embrace, pressing kisses against his cheek and telling him how much he missed him, clinging with as much strength as he had.  
The first time it happened, he thought the kid was trying to knock him out, so when his gangly arms wrapped around Tony’s neck, they were quickly pinned back down to his sides. Tony only realized what was happening when Peter whined and begged to touch him, and he looked so fucking needy, tears streaming down his pretty face, that it could only be construed as honesty. Since then, Tony welcomed Peter’s greetings with very literal opened arms.  
After their little reunion, he would take Peter’s dainty little hand and lead him out of the dark upstairs, into his master bathroom, where he drew a bath and took his time undressing Peter. When he got him in the tub, he’d slowly wash his boy with a soapy wet cloth, lathering thick, creamy bubbles across his ivory skin.  
He’d feel all the tension leaving Peter’s body as his shoulders sagged and he fluttered his eyes closed, leaning wherever Tony’s touch was closest.  
“Missed you so much, sweetheart.” Tony would whisper in his ear. “Don’t make me put you in there again, darling. Hated it so much.”  
“Never again, Daddy.” Peter responded if he hadn’t been lulled into a peaceful sleep. “’M so sorry.”  
Such a good boy.  
After washing his hair with shampoo and conditioner, massaging nimble fingers against Peter’s scalp until he was purring, Tony drained the bathtub and wrapped Peter up in a big, soft towel before scooping him up and taking him to his bed.  
His boy’s warm and pliant body curled against Tony’s as soon as they were under the duvet. He’d practically leech onto the man, every inch of skin from the boy’s face to his chest to his thighs to his ankles stamped against Tony’s body with a stubborn determinedness to stay close.  
Tony would be lying, absolutely lying if he said he didn’t love it though. Loved how if he moved away, his pretty boy would instinctively follow. Loved the clingy state Peter was in for the next week. Loved how desperate he was to please him, to ensure that Tony wouldn’t extend his punishment and lock him back down in that dreary, dark cell again.


End file.
